nox
by phylanix
Summary: AU Misty is beginning to discover that Gary's new neighbor, Ash, is more than he seems, while they work together to uncover the reason for the rampaging Pokemon that have suddenly appeared throughout the four countries.


disclaimer: don't own, don't sue.

* * *

**nox**

_prologue_

* * *

The night was dark and tinged yellow around the edges from Saffron's sodium lamps. Set in a velvet green valley, the city glowed like a softly luminous jewel; a beacon under the moonless sky. Barely a soul stirred and the air was still to the point of suffocating, as if the wind itself waited with bated breath for – something.

It was a bad night to be out. The citydwellers had names for nights like these, when true night fell, uninterrupted by moon or even stars. Old legends crawled to life like monsters from within a pit, and mothers shut their windows and hugged their children close to comfort them. Even Saffron's renowned psychics remarked upon feelings of ill ease, and foreboding. But there are still some who, untempered by age, feel as though such nights are only a tale contrived to keep small children indoors, or, rather than be intimidated, are determined not to let anything come between them and their journeys.

Misty Waterflower from Cerulean City was one such person. A trainer traveling by herself to better her skills with water pokemon, she had heard rumors at the local Center about the especially powerful pokemon that emerged on such nights. Even if it were not necessarily true, it was still a good opportunity to teach some of the newer ones on her team to fight in the dark – an ability that had become more important upon the discovery of powerful ghost-type and even dark-type pokemon from neighboring countries.

Never did it once occur to her to be concerned about her own safety. Misty had been a gym leader in the past and had been on the road for four or so years honing her skills. She was a force to be reckoned with.

She was using Starmie to light the way with its bright ruby core. It cast a light that tinted everything crimson, like viewing the world through a glass of red wine. Misty could not help but feel a sense of apprehension as the city dwindled in size behind her, and the forest path narrowed from open to practically being choked with trees.

"Funny," she said aloud to Starmie. "I don't remember there being so many on the way here. Brock's right – everything _does_ seem different at night."

Starmie, whose perception of sounds made out of water can be described as tenuous at best, made no reply.

They proceeded another hundred yards or so with no event when something flickered along the edge of Starmie's searchlight, moving so swiftly that Misty first wondered if she had imagined it. But her pokemon reacted too, and as it did not rely on sight but rather a strange sixth sense to scope out its surroundings, Misty realized that she had not been hallucinating.

"What was that? Starmie, do you know where it went?" Though Starmie couldn't really understand what she was saying, its familiarity with Misty's tone in combination with its own partially psychic nature helped it piece together enough so that it reacted by whirling off into the shadowed underbrush.

Misty went after it. Branches tugged at her clothes and hair and she almost tripped, twice, before she heard Starmie's battle call. Plucking two more pokeballs off her belt, she released Togekiss and Dragonair. "Flash," she called out, and a blinding brightness began to emanate from the winged egg. Cursing her own shortsightedness, she blinked furiously to adjust her vision while Dragonair, experienced in fighting in darkness, sped off to aid her comrade.

It took their trainer a few moments more before she stumbled upon the scene: her Starmie lay, battered and fainted, on the ground before a pair of the most enormous Mightyena she had ever seen. By their side prowled an Umbreon, vicious aggression outlined in its lean, horrible frame, and a Houndoom, its outline blazing in the darkness. Misty felt real fear this time, in pricks that ran up her spine, but she kept her head – until the Umbreon made a leap straight for her throat.

_That's strange,_ she found herself thinking, though her life could have realistically ended at that point. _Even wild pokemon know better than to attack trainers. _Then she was in quite close proximity with the creature's eyes. They were a dark red, and glistened like current jelly.

Dragonair slammed bodily into the dark pokemon, throwing them both on the ground. The dragon reclaimed her feet first, righting herself in one long, sinuous motion. Her opponent stood on shaky legs; the first hit had taken it unawares, and it had lost its wind.

Misty found her voice. "Dragonair! It's got lousy physical defense, press it and don't give it time to recover!" She recalled Starmie and released the rest of her team – Gyrados and Polytoed and Marshtomp, but for some odd reason the strange dark pokemon did not engage them. Instead, they were content to form a half-circle and watch, tongues lolling casually from fang-lined mouths, an eerie ring of spectators.

After the first critical attack, Dragonair made short work of the Umbreon. She then flowed over to hover protectively next to her trainer. The Houndoom gave her a look that was vaguely impressed, then turned tail and disappeared into the night. The Mightyena, however, bared their teeth. One of them tossed its head back and howled. Misty felt the hair on her neck and arms rise from the sound. She knew what it meant – more were coming.

"Togekiss, Substitute!" she called hurriedly, recalling the rest of her pokemon save Dragonair. She leapt on the dragon's back and snatched Togekiss from the air as soon as he had finished the decoy. Dragonair sped away, but the Mightyena gave chase, some demonic power lending speed to their stride. Misty chanced a look back and saw that there were not two but an entire pack – she counted six but could not be sure, and more were probably in the woods, waiting with a grim sort of patience.

Then, that small creature flickered into existence again, and this time by Togekiss's light it was yellow in color. Dragonair swiftly altered her course to accommodate, but it doubled back. Misty bit back a scream as she felt tiny but sharp claws cling onto her shoulder. Quite suddenly she was staring into the face of a Pikachu.

"Where did you come from?" she marveled out loud. The pokemon made no move to attack, but merely cocked its canary-bright head at her and scratched at one long ear with a forepaw. Then it turned to Togekiss and queried something in its high-pitched, chirping language. Togekiss trilled in reply, and Misty could feel those claws tighten slightly against her skin. Then the Pikachu's image flickered and vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Behind them, there was a soft rustling sound as a breeze picked up in the still, still night. The breeze thickened into a wind, and suddenly it was accompanied by another, but very different type of rustling.

Lightning lit up the moonless sky, coupled with a sharp clap of thunder. The suddenness of it sent Misty's heart soaring to her throat, beating all the while like a caged hummingbird. In the distance, she could hear the whimpers of the Mightyena, and the Pikachu was inexplicably back again, this time relaying something to her Dragonair. From its gestures, it clearly wanted her to take some certain direction. Those gestures waxed more enthusiastic as howls once more began to rise and fill the air behind them.

Misty glanced over the Pikachu. It had acted too tamely toward her to be wild, and its fur was too healthy besides; this creature had seen its fill of poffin. A bright intelligence lit up its eyes, and Misty felt inclined to trust it – after all, it had just saved them and it might even take them to shelter.

It took only about five minutes for them to leave the forest, but in the dark with the demon wind and wild trees an eternity seemed to pass before Dragonair hovered to a still. The Mightyena were gone, but there was no telling when the pack had abandoned its chase – or why. The edge of the woods opened into a gently sloping hill. The Pikachu chirped excitedly and dashed forward to settle on the shoulder of the shadowed figure standing there. Its jagged tail glowed with electric light, and as it flashed by the stranger's face, Misty caught a glimpse of dark hair and amber eyes, filled with such an expression of self-loathing that she almost physically jerked back. Then the light was gone, and so were they.

* * *

_one_

"This is it," Gary said, killing the engine. The old blue truck gave a shudder of complaint, then lay still. He got out, slammed the door shut, and frowned from the lack of response from the back. "Hey, didja hear me? This is it, Misty!"

Misty blinked her eyes open and was met with endless blue sky lined with fleecy white clouds. She sat up and looked around. They had stopped in a dirt-and-gravel driveway, cutting a swath through green lawn and leading up to a large country home. It may have been painted at one point, but the weather and sun had scoured its wooden siding to its original pale beach. The windows were open, leaving visible gauzy white curtains, drifting lazily on account of the wind. At least the roof, made of cheerful red slate, appeared to be new. Behind the house trees stuck out like hedgehog quills, and beyond that Misty could see the faintest glimmer of water, winking like a thousand jewels laid bare in the sun.

"Gary!" she exclaimed, leaping upright and jumping out of the truck. Her bare feet met with the coolness of long grass, allowed to grow and grow without the threat of a mower. "It's great! Where did you find this place?"

"What d'you mean where?" he grinned at her, saucily. "We're here now, so here, that's where! But if you really wanna know, one of my friends has a place nearby. When this house was up for grabs, he told me first thing. I flew over to see it, and fell in love with it. So I bought it."

"We're right by the beach!" Misty declared, smiling. "And that means I can finally let my pokemon out for a swim! The house needs a little work, sure, but it's huge!"

"And the best part is," Gary said, giving her a sly glance, "I heard that if you fly about two hours to the northwest, up by Mount Silver, there are some seriously rare and powerful wild pokemon."

Misty laughed gaily. "That's all you ever think of, Mr Pokemon Master, isn't it?" Gary gave her one of his trademark smirks in reply.

"Yeah, so I was hoping you could meet this friend of mine," Gary said off-handedly, unloading their luggage from the truck. "But he said he had some business to take care of. He'll be back tomorrow, I think. Maybe I can even talk him into a battle."

Misty snorted. "You're the current PM. When _don't _you want to battle?" She shouldered her backpack and, suitcase in hand, began walking towards the house.

"Really, Misty, this guy is tough." Gary grabbed his gear and followed her. There was a distant expression on his face. "If he hadn't dropped out of the league competition, he would've given me a real run for my money." Misty stopped and looked back at him, her face puzzled. "If he was that good, then why did he drop out? What was his name?"

Gary shrugged and walked past her to open the door. "His given name is Satoshi, but I've always called him Ash."

* * *

The house was every bit as big as it looked, and its inside had been freshly aired out. Windows had been left slightly ajar and a cool sea breeze, smelling of damp sand and salt, tugged slightly at the curtains. The kitchen was well-equipped and equally spacious, with white marble countertops and an island in the very middle. Living room, dining room, and family room all had high ceilings and windows tall enough to match, letting in a flood of sunlight. A cavernous foyer led to a study with a pristine view of the ocean through a clearing in the woods. There was even a woodburning fireplace in the family room – something Misty knew would come in handy if they ever chose to make a winter stay.

She lugged all her belongings upstairs. There were four bedrooms in addition to the master; she picked the one furthest down the hall, as it had the best view. Leaving everything there except a light jacket and her gear, she raced down the stairs, past Gary. All he ever saw was an orange-and-blue blur, yelling, "See ya in the water!"

The waves were warm, had been heated by the sun. Misty tossed her jacket on the beach, stripped off her tee-shirt, and dashed into the water in her bikini top and shorts. One by one, she released her pokemon. They surfaced, large and excited: Starmie, Polytoed, Dragonair, Marshtomp, and Gyrados. Only Togekiss decided to hover in the air, his wings beating rapidly like hummingbird's.

Splashing and playing, Misty and her pokemon drifted lazily, letting the waves tug them in and out, in and out. Misty, floating with her head resting on Starmie's ruby core, nearly fell asleep when something wet and furry tickled her nose.

She blinked her eyes open, and almost screamed at the Pikachu's face that took up nearly all of her vision due to its close proximity. "Pikachupi?" it said quizzically, then proceeded to climb over her shoulders and onto her head.

"Hey," she protested, lifting it down gently and setting it on Starmie. It was really a very small Pikachu, she decided, but it looked well cared for, if the condition of its coat and the bright sparkle in its intelligent eyes were any indication. "Where did you come from? Where's your trainer?" Though she had never been overly fond of Pikachus, they had endeared themselves to her when one saved her life a few months back. She wondered what had happened to it and its trainer.

Say – hadn't his pikachu been pretty small too?

It seemed to know what she was thinking, for it gave her a cheeky grin, then blurred and vanished.

Misty started. It _had_ been the same pokemon, she was sure of it! She looked around wildly, only to catch a yellow streak dashing along the beach and towards another house, some five hundred yards away. It was smaller than Gary's, and painted a bright blue to match the sea. Succumbing to an almost urgent curiosity, Misty splashed out of the water and followed the electric mouse to shore.

The house was even smaller up close, its backyard opening into beach sand. Carefully placed stone steps lead up to a generous patio made of red wood. All sorts of flowers bloomed in thick tangles on either side. Misty took one step at a time through it, keeping her eyes open for anything small, furry, and yellow.

She must have been completely engrossed in searching for the Pikachu because she nearly tripped against something lying on the ground. For the second time that day, Misty nearly had a heart attack. Beet-red eyes stared back into hers, and the small toadlike pokemon gave a soft croak of annoyance before shifting into a more comfortable position.

A Bulbasaur lying in the sun. Perhaps it belonged to the owner of this place, Misty thought. It was such an adorable little creature, for all its crankiness, but not one raised for battle; underevolved and much too tiny. But it looked like it was as well looked-after as the Pikachu had been, so maybe there was an offchance that...

"Hey, Bulbasaur." The pokemon's head lifted up from where it rested on its claws. "Is your master home?"

"Bulba," it said, and shook its head.

Misty was disappointed, but persisted, "have you by any chance seen a Pikachu around?"

It gave her a strange look. "Bulba," it said again, but this time it was in the affirmative.

"Really?" Misty said, excited now and not really caring that she was interrogating a frog with a bulb on its back. "Did you see where it went?"

The Bulbasaur rolled its eyes at her – it actually _rolled_ its eyes at her! – and a thick green vine trailed out from underneath its bulb to point at the house proper. Then it curled all four limbs beneath itself and tucked its head in, much like a turtle.

Misty straightened up and glanced at the back patio door. There were no curtains or blinds, and she could see the inside quite clearly. It was a neatly kept and bright little place, all hardwood floors, with a cherry kitchen further in and a scrubbed wooden table covered with a fresh linen tablecloth. She could see to the foyer, all the way in the front of the house, and there was a sunken family room with a huge stone fireplace, like a Charizard's open mouth, to the left. A Treefort-woven rug, colorfully dyed and geometrically patterned, covered the floor in front of it.

She felt very tempted just to go inside – growing up with no parents and three errant sisters had taught her how to break into a locked house at an early age. And besides, Gary had mentioned that the area was peaceful enough that almost no one left their doors locked anyway. But if anything, invading someone's privacy was a rude gesture, and if the trainer who had saved her really lived here – then it would be a very poor show of gratitude to trespass into his home.

In the end, Misty left it alone and returned to the beach. Gary had already jumped in, paddling idle circles around his Blastoise and Feraligator. He waved as she jogged over.

"Hey, Misty, where did you go? You didn't take any of your pokemon and I was gonna go after ya, but the flying egg said it was okay. Still, it's not smart to be running off like that," he chastised. "The Tentacool can get pretty mean, and now and then you run into a beached one..." He made a motion for her to join him, and she did so, swimming out a little and treading water.

"I had to look into something," she said vaguely. "You know, to satisfy my neverending curiosity." That got a grin, but her eyes kept drifting to that blue house down the beach. "Say, Gary," she said absently, "you wouldn't happen to know any trainers around here with a Pikachu, do you?"

"Yeah, I do." Suddenly he chuckled quietly, as if at some distant memory. "Ash has one – first pokemon he ever got. Lets her run loose all the time."

"Eh, hold on," Misty said quickly. "Where did you say Ash lived again?"

Gary pointed. "You see that little blue house by the water over there?"

"No way," was the first thing out of Gary's mouth once he heard the entire thing. "Nothing you've described sounds like Ash, aside from the Pikachu. And maybe the hair, but hey – plenty of people have dark hair. But I'm telling you, Ash is the most happy-go-lucky guy I've met, and secretly I think he's _afraid_ of the dark – he hardly comes out at night. It's too bad, really, 'cause some of the rarest pokemon only come out then. Like Absol," He mused. "Been trying to get one of those for _ages_…"

Though a part of her felt almost as if crushed by Gary's statements, Misty couldn't help but smile at the way her friend would switch from nearly any topic of conversation to pokemon in the blink of an eye. Still, she had almost been _certain_ that had been the same pikachu. Gary knew his best friend best though, Misty had to admit grudgingly, and she'd never even met him before. The answer was obvious – no match.

"Hey," Gary said abruptly, rising from the kitchen table, where they had been seated over a makeshift meal of ramen noodles. "Want to take a walk to town? We need to pick up some groceries anyway."

"Not relying on your trusty truck for once?" Misty teased. "I know what you really want – a few good pokemon battles along the way."

* * *

A "few" battles turned out to be a rather inaccurate description; it turned out that they had a lot a battles, and none of them proved to be very challenging. Misty even found herself commenting with an uncharacteristic dryness to her voice, "Someone hates to lose" as they stepped foot into Traverse Town. It was a small settlement nestled between beach and forest, a convenient location for trainers headed to the ocean, or everyday people who lived by the water's edge. Gary had cut a wide swath on the way there, with a trail of fainted pokemon to show for it. Sure, Misty had been responsible for a portion of them, but (as she kept telling herself), it was a _small_ portion.

There was only one general store besides the Mart, but Traverse also boasted an open-air market. It was here that Gary and Misty bought enough food to last a week, if not longer, and food for the pokemon as well. Times like these, staring at the many colorful and confusingly labeled bags of chow, made Misty really wish that Brock were still with her. She had no idea what brand suited her pokemon best, and anyway Brock could _make_ food that tasted better and was healthier than this stuff. Laden with purchases, they were just about to begin the walk back when hailed by a figure in a green shirt and cut-off shorts.

"Misty! Gary! It's me, Professor Birch!"

He looked the same as always – negligently kept brown hair, coke-bottle glasses, and small but bright eyes. The only difference was that he'd swapped the lab coat for more recreational clothing.

"Professor Birch!" Misty exclaimed, shaking the proffered hand enthusiastically. "What a surprise to see you! Are you on vacation?"

"Heavens no," the scientist said fervently. "Vacationing at a time like this? No, I'm conducting an investigation here on the wild pokemon – we think someone may have set up a device to drive them berserk."

Hearing those words brought a little chill to Misty's skin. "Making wild pokemon go... berserk?"

"Why, yes. We've been receiving reports nearly every other night about Mightyena or Houndour attacks, or how the Rattata have gotten particularly vicious. Even the more docile species, like the Bidoofs and Wurmples have been reported to exhibit signs of madness. They attack any trainer in sight, and usually in groups, which makes them that much more dangerous. But when day breaks, they're perfectly fine again." The professor removed his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. "It's got me baffled," he admitted.

"That sounds like quite a case," Gary said. "Are you working on it alone then?"

"No, not quite; my son is with me." Birch smiled fondly. "His name is Terry – he's a good boy, totally obsessed with pokemon, of course – but he gets distracted easily. I suppose to him, this is rather like a vacation."

"Where are you staying?" Misty asked, curious. She had heard about Birch's son – the child was a prodigy of a trainer, but all he really seemed interested in was field study and continuing his father's work.

"Nowhere yet, I was just about to find us some lodging. We just got here, and of course you know Terry dashes off to the open-air market."

Gary seemed to consider this for a moment, then suggested, "Why don't you stay with us then? I have a house about thirty minutes' walk from here. It's too big for the two of us and we've got plenty of spare bedrooms and space. Whaddya say?"

This seemed to fluster Birch a bit. "I couldn't possibly intrude on your holiday here," he protested immediately. "Believe me, I know how little time off you get as the current Master."

"If it were intruding," Gary said with a sardonic grin, "then I wouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. My grandfather's in the same line of work as you. Heck, I even went into research for a while. It's like helping out a comrade, you know?"

Birch still looked doubtful, but there was a light in his eyes hinting that he was eager for the opportunity to compare notes with the young Champion. After turning the proposition over in his head a bit more, he relented. "All right. Thank you ever so much for this. Just let me call Terry and we can be on our way as soon as you'd like."

* * *

Terry, it turned out, was every bit as arrogant as Gary had been at his age. He was also a misogynist to boot, and Misty found herself having a hard time keeping her temper in check and her fingers from wrapping themselves around the kid's neck while they walked back, as his degrading comments continued to increase in frequency and outrageousness.

Eventually Professor Birch's rebukes grew stern enough to quell his son, but by this point they'd already reached the house. Terry dropped his stuff at the base of the driveway and dashed around the back, shouting, "Oh wow, the ocean!"

"Uh, Misty," Gary said quietly, "didn't you leave Gyrados out there?"

She swore loudly and ran after the boy.

At first Misty was tempted to let Terry have a run-in with her ferocious pokemon as just desserts for being such a prick, but in the end she knew that he probably didn't deserve getting eaten. Even though she had trained Gyrados for five years now, he was still hostile to strangers, and she had to be careful about using him in matches. In retrospect, she realized that leaving him alone had been a very bad decision; any lone swimmer could have easily lost limbs to the water dragon. True, she had Togekiss there with him, but they were both at the same level and even he might not be able to hold him back in a rage – that temper and those teeth were things to be reckoned with.

Misty breathed a sigh of relief when she found Terry intact, standing onshore and staring outward at the shifting, undulating waves. The cocksure gleam in his eyes had been stripped down to awe – Misty was surprised that he was the type to be moved by the beauty of natural scenery. Then with a jolt she realized it wasn't the ocean he was so focused on, but the outline of her Gyrados against the sun... and the figure of someone Surfing on top of him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she screamed. Terry started and spun around, thinking that she was yelling at him, but Misty didn't even notice, rushing headlong into the water. In an instant she had released Starmie and together they sliced though the waves, rapidly closing the distance between beach and Gyrados. "Get away from him! He's dangerous!"

A cheerful-sounding voice almost stopped her in her tracks. "Relax," it said, and dimly she realized that it was coming from the other trainer. "We're getting along fine and, besides, he couldn't really hurt me even if he wanted to."

"Pikachupi!" another voice added, this one higher-pitched and familiar. This time, Misty _did_ stop, treading water as she let go of Starmie.

Gyrados' passenger was a trainer her age – male, with black hair dampened by seafoam and sticking up here and there in unruly spikes. His eyes were the color of ancient amber, and for a moment Misty could see how all sorts of things besides extinct pokemon might be trapped in their depths. His face was tanned, more angular than Gary's and faintly handsome. He wore swimming trunks and a sleeveless tee-shirt, revealing skin lean with muscle and covered in numerous scars and shiny, healed-over burns. But what stood out most of all was the Pikachu that clung to his right shoulder like it was the most natural place in the world for it to be.

Misty stared: definitely the same Pikachu.

The stranger slid off Gyrados' scaled neck with an easy sort of grace that implied that he'd done this kind of thing before. He began to swim toward Mist with broad, powerful strokes, Pikachu clinging to his neck and clearly enjoying the ride.

"Sorry," was the first thing he said, stopping in front of where she floated. "Didn't mean to give you a scare. I shouldn't have gone Surfing without your permission, but it was such a gorgeous day for it! You're Misty Waterflower, right? Gary told me about you when he bought the house – I'm Ash."

"Nice to meet you," she responded politely. "You did scare me, quite a bit, but I'm just relieved that you weren't hurt. Usually Gyrados is downright mean."

Ash laughed, and Misty decided she liked the sound of it. "It's a trait of the species," he observed. "They're all mean as hell, but once you show 'em that you're not afraid and you're not gonna hurt them, they warm up to you."

Misty wasn't sure it was exactly that easy, but she nodded in agreement anyway. Disappointment weighted her down like a stone on the inside, however: Gary was right. Ash looked nothing like her rescuer, and his eyes were too bright, too open. The only connection they had after all was the Pikachus.

"Hey Misty!"

They turned toward shore. It was Gary, waving both arms to get their attention. "Everything all right?"

"Don't worry!" Ash shouted back, grinning. "I've got it all taken care of!"

"I thought you were coming back tomorrow, lamebrain!"

"Well, someone had to make sure you didn't wreck havoc when you arrived, Mr Pokemon Master!"

Misty couldn't see it clearly, but she knew Gary was wearing his customary smirk as he said, "Them's fighting words, Ash. Is that a challenge?"

An energetic gleam sparked in Ash's eyes as he yelled back, "You bet your title it is!"

* * *

It turned out that Ash hadn't brought any of his pokemon with him besides Pikachu, so they ended up postponing the match. He offered to battle with only one pokemon, one-on-one, but for some reason it was Gary who declined the offer, and with a laugh of incredulity, too-- as if Ash were trying to trick him into doing something and he wasn't going to fall for it. Misty was left with a strange sense of disappointment, but her sensible side chided her, it was the current Pokemon Master against a trainer she hadn't even heard of; the outcome was obvious. Instead the four of them, Ash, Gary, Terry, and herself, met up with Professor Birch at the house.

They had a quick dinner of juice and sandwiches, over which the good professor explained the details of his research to Gary. Meanwhile, Misty was left with Terry and Ash to converse with, and she'd be damned if she had to take another five minutes of the little Birch brat, so,

"You're a trainer too then? What kind of pokemon do you specialize in, Ash?"

He took a sip of his orange juice and said, "No specific kind. I train all of them, except for Dark types."

"Why's that?" Misty asked, curious.

Ash shrugged. "Bad childhood experience, I guess. And I've been beaten enough times by that killer Umbreon Gary has to sort of hold a petty, vindictive grudge against them. You're a Water trainer, aren't you? I've read a lot about you in the news."

Misty grinned. "That's Gary's fault, mostly. I met him when he first started his pokemon journey – man, was he a cocky little brat, let me tell you. Anyway, we've gone a lot of places over the years and most of the more newsworthy binds that I've gotten into are thanks to him. What about you? I can tell your Pikachu's been well-raised, and it's not just any trainer that can convince my Gyrados to let him on his back. I've never really heard of you though. Did you ever do the league challenge?"

"Once, when I was younger," Ash admitted. "I didn't do too badly, I guess, but it wasn't really the thing for me."

"Is that why you dropped out during the finals?" Misty blurted, not knowing that the question had lain in wait inside her all this time. "Er, sorry. I don't mean to get too nosy."

"No, don't worry about it," he assured her. "Yeah, that was the reason. Plus, I didn't stand a chance against Gary anyway."

"He didn't seem to think so."

"Gary gives me too much credit." Ash sat up straighter and stretched, working the stiffness out of his shoulders. Somehow Misty knew that it was a dismissal of their current topic of conversation. He turned to Terry, who had been eating his food in silence. "How about you? I know you took the league challenge yourself in Hoenn... you weren't too shabby at it, either."

Terry broke into a grin at the compliment. "Yeah, I did all right," he managed; Misty was surprised that he didn't take the opportunity to launch into another bout of boasting. He seemed to hold a lot of respect for Ash after his display with her Gyrados.

"Gonna help the professor with his work now? What kinds of projects have you done?"

The kid puffed up like a Pidgeotto trying to intimidate an Ekans away from its nest. "I did some work researching Whismurs and their effect on cave environments. That took up most of my time, until Dad dragged me out here with him. But this is cool too."

Meanwhile, Professor Birch was saying to Gary, "What I'd really like is to get a regular surveillance on the wild pokemon of this area. Do you know any rangers around here that might be of help?"

"Not really, since I just got here." Gary confessed. "But I know Ash has been studying the pokemon in this area for a few years now. He might be able to help you."

Ash shot him a dirty look and said sheepishly, "I'm no researcher, but I know a thing or two. I could show you to one of the more densely inhabited places tomorrow, if you'd like. It would be a good place to start."

"Why yes, that would be fantastic," Birch said enthusiastically.

"Would morning be alright for you? It's better that we start earlier because there are tourists in this area that go around in the afternoon, scaring everything off," Ash said.

"Fine, fine," Birch agreed. "Whenever you like."

"How's eight? Or is that too early?" Birch shook his head. "Good. Then I'll come by tomorrow."


End file.
